“That obvious, huh?” Eli chuckled. “Aubrey’s been talking, I see. Seriously, though, how’s the dog doing? Are you going to keep it?”
They’d had no luck tracking down any of the dog owner’s family. Holly had returned his call only to tell him that there was no room at the shelter right now, especially for an injured dog. Could Jay keep the dog or find someone who could until space was available? He wasn’t sure what he was going to do. “I want a dog about as badly as I do a root canal.”
“Uh, I don’t think veterinarians do root canals. At least not on people.”
Aubrey walked up to join her fiancé. “Besides, it would be much less painful to just ask her to dinner.”
Jay rolled his eyes. “Has anyone ever told you how pushy and annoying you can be?”
Eli laughed and raised his hand. “I do. I tell her.”
“Yes, of course. He does. As do my sisters. All the time. And I’m sorry,” she said, tipping her head one way and then the other. “Sort of. ’Cause isn’t this kinda like a sign? Holly not having room right now? You should seriously consider keeping that sweet dog. I think it would be good for you to have someone to think about, something to take care of, someone...”
Jay grinned. “Other than myself, you mean?” Not even Aubrey knew that his reputation for being carefree and perpetually unattached was contrived. His life was anything but carefree, and his responsibilities were daunting, to say the least.
She pushed one shoulder up into a shrug. “I’m just saying.”
He fished his phone out of his backpack and, speaking of responsibility, saw that he’d received a text from Levi. He’d read it after he got out of here. Stuffing the phone into his pocket, he asked, “What do you suggest I do with the dog when I’m on duty?”
“There are dog-walking services you could hire that help with that. Or doggy day care. Sheila Roarke has one. She calls it a doggy spa. It’s nicer than my house.”
“I really don’t have time for a dog.” Either option would be an expense he could in no way afford. Not to mention the food, supplies, vet care and medicine. All funds that could go toward items the kids needed. Although the thought of those pet-related things filled him with a nice combination of anticipation and anxiety. He was looking forward to seeing Mia again, even if looking and talking was as far as it could go. “Besides, I’m sure this guy’s family is going to want his dog.”
“Davis said he doesn’t have any family. He tracked down someone at the marina who kind of knew him. Said the guy was a loner.”
“Even loners have family.” Look at me for example, he thought. To change the subject, he asked Aubrey, “Do you have the paperwork for the meeting?”
“Yep.” She held up a clipboard. Nothing like a clipboard and a meeting about volunteer work to steer Aubrey in a new direction. The woman was all about the organizing, not to mention her passion for community service.
They headed to the parking lot and climbed into their cars. The meeting was across the Columbia River in Washington, at the Coast Guard boat station, Cape Disappointment. The trip would take about a half hour, so he removed his phone and read the text from Levi: Mom is gone again. Josie told me to tell you. She needs to talk to you. She wants to know if you have time tomorrow?
A mix of irritation and concern settled over him. As if he needed another reminder as to why he couldn’t let himself get attached to a dog, much less its pretty doctor.
He tapped out a response: Hang in there, buddy. Tell her yes. I’m off duty tomorrow.
* * *
JAY WASN’T SURPRISED, but he was incredibly pleased that so many of their colleagues, including a huge number of Cape Disappointment personnel, had shown up for this Coast Guard community outreach meeting. Most people who signed up for military service were all about helping others. Their goal was to make it a little easier for them. He kept his remarks brief, letting the list of charities that he, Aubrey and two of their colleagues had compiled speak for him.
“As the incident earlier this spring illuminated, we all know it’s important to show the community that the Coast Guard cares, that we’re invested here in these little towns. I know a lot of you already volunteer at your church or your kids’ schools or with their sports teams. Some of you are involved in Aubrey’s swim lesson program and others at the hospital in Astoria and so on. So don’t feel obligated, and please don’t overextend your personal resources. This outreach is all about bringing willing volunteers to programs that need them. But not at the expense of your own family’s needs.” He went on for a few more minutes.
Jay’s motivation in cochairing this initiative was twofold. There’d been an incident earlier in the spring involving two boaters. After an altercation between them, the Coast Guard intervened. One man had been ticketed for excessive speed and boating under the influence. He’d raised a fuss with the local media and in the process, he’d attempted to make the Coast Guard look like high-handed bullies. The Coast Guard personnel involved had been vindicated, but the unfortunate episode had left people talking. This had prompted command to amp up their efforts at spreading goodwill throughout the community.
In his youth, Jay and his siblings had often been recipients of these types of charities. He was passionate and resolute about giving back. And because he knew it wasn’t easy to ask for help, Jay had discussed it with his superior and suggested this hands-on approach. He and his colleagues had gone out into the community, seeking and identifying the organizations that needed assistance and in what form.
The resulting list they’d compiled was long and included a wide variety of options: a group that built homes for the needy, the food bank, a women’s shelter, two homeless shelters, the library literacy program, hospice care and delivering food to the homebound were among the many organizations seeking volunteers. Their only requirements were that the need be local and the recipients be in “true” need.
“Any questions?”
A hand went up in the crowd. “Um, I see there’s a short description here, but I’m not sure what some of these places do exactly...?”
Jay had anticipated this question. “Next to every organization, there should be the name of whoever signed it up. See my name by the food bank? I can tell you all about it—who’s in charge, where the food goes, what specific needs they have. Any questions, just ask whoever has their name next to it.”
Another hand raised. “Does it matter what we sign up for? Is there like a scale based on need? Are there some organizations that need help more than others?”
He and Aubrey had discussed this and decided it was too subjective to rate them based on need. “Nope. Between Aubrey, Vance Davis, Terrence Oliver and me, we’ve vetted all these places. If they’re on the list, they need help. Please feel free to pick anything that interests you.”
Jay felt a welling of pride as he watched his colleagues eagerly signing up for the available spots. He mingled and answered questions, and nearly an hour after the meeting started, people began to filter out.
“I think all of the places now have at least one Coast Guard volunteer,” Aubrey happily reported when everyone had departed. She frowned. “Except one.”
“Sign me up for that one. I was going to take whatever was left or whatever needed more bodies anyway.”
“Really? Are you sure?”
“Yeah, really. I don’t care what it is. I’ll do it.”
“Jay, you are awesome. Have I told you that lately?” Her smile was blinding. At that point, he should have known something was up. She bent over the clipboard again as she filled in a blank spot on the chart. “Perfect. I’ll get these names sent to our various organizations and we’ll